Mutterings of a Mad Woman

The Soulless Nether is the newest creature in the Dark Dwellers collection.

A vacuous creature, with no understanding of love or mercy, it is one of the few figures who will step from the shadows to nab its prey.

Slow moving but relentless.

Sightless but always aware. And accurate when it strikes.

It feeds on blood, flesh and bone, but only a few bites. Rarely will it consume an entire being, being drawn more by their life force than anything else. Once that starts to fade, the Nether loses interest and simply casts away its meal.

The younger the being, the more enticing. It is likely to steal toddlers from sandboxes, or birthday girls from backyard parties while Mom is getting more punch.

No charms or potions can protect you. This Dweller of the Dark stalks us and strikes at random. Enjoy the time you have, and pray for old age.

Happy Friday the 13th, my fellow ghoulies. And what better day to introduce to you a new line of sculpted figures I'll be exploring this year.

It isn't official, but I think I will be calling them the Dwellers of the Dark. Or Dark Dwellers. Which one do you like better? Let me know.

They are a bit more...monsterish...than my usual cute creepers. Totally out of my element, and oh what fun that is!

No teeth or premade eyes. All sculpt. And more...sinister undertones.

They won't all look like these, but my intention is to give them a haunting or animalistic look.

It's a style I've always wanted to explore. I hope you like them.

With time, I should get a bit more skilled at the drawing out of the jaws and muscles. Practice, practice, practice.

For now, the first three are completed. They are similar though one of them is 14 1/2 inches high (as you can see in the photo below, he towers over the other two). He was the first, and as is the tradition, that means he stays with me.

The first completed sculpture of 2012 helps to set the mood for that far away holiday we wait for all year.

He stands at 11 inches. This year I'm going to make some of my Little Minions not so little. There will still be smaller figures but I thought it was time the Plague Doctors had some competition when it came to size.

It's been a lot of fun making various creatures in a larger scale, and I'm excited to experiment more.

I do wish I was a better seamstress. While I did sew his trick or treat bag, I'd like to get more inventive with their outfits. Sewing skill would help a lot, though I know I can find ways around my lack of talent with a thread and needle. I just need to be more creative.

Hopefully you folks are finding some time this spring to bring a little Halloween into your hearts.

Spring has sprung, but instead of flowers, it brings with it some monsters in the making.

In between puppy chaos, I've managed to experiment with some new figures, changing up my style a bit which has been fun. I'm excited to see how they come together, and trying to think outside the coffin...er...box...a bit when it comes to my designs. Now, none of these are revolutionary, but I think taking a step to the right of my usual style is a good thing.

And it's about time I was hit with inspiration. Show season is sneaking up quickly and like old Mother Hubbard, my cupboards are bare.

It's my birthday today. I almost forgot about that too. When you're spinning wildly, time has a way of being elusive.

Today I am off to lunch with a friend (and perhaps a stop for a pint or two) while Yetch babysits Monkey Boo. He's been away to Denver all week, leaving the pup and I on our own. I took the opportunity to do some crash course puppy self-control lessons by staying with my mom and her pack of dogs. Monkey is pretty good around the older dog but wants to wrestle full throttle with Padfoot the Irish Wolfhound. Paddy can fit her whole head in his mouth (even though they are the same age). She doesn't even blink at his size. Even Paddy recognizes she's a wild pup (as you can see from the picture below).

Having a puppy with the giardia parasite has convinced me that man will be wiped out by parasites, who are secretly the ultimate evil. The last week has been like zombie outbreak training. Everything must be sanitized in order to prevent spread of infection. Even if the antibiotics kill off the parasite in her system, she is at risk for reinfection (and infecting us) each time she goes outside in the backyard where she's gone to the bathroom. The only thing that kills these buggers is bleach. The protocol is a protective sheet at the back door. Shoes stay here. She's picked up off the ground and we clean her paws with baby wipes before being allowed back into the kitchen. Bedding is covered in towels which are washed daily (along with toys, bowls, and anything else she comes into contact with). Hands are washed so often, both Yetch and I have scaly hands (I had a rash for a while). When she goes to the bathroom, we pick it up immediately and pour a bleach mixture on the spot.

Needless to say, it's exhausting and time-consuming.

I've been able to find time to start some bodies for new creations and hope to get at more creating now that I have a system down. I'm hoping to make some more today.

I'm also waiting to hear from the vet regarding Monkey Boo's latest stool test. We're hoping for good news of no traces of the parasite. Of course, it doesn't guarantee she's clear...and I need to treat parts of the backyard with lime sulphur (which apparently changes the pH levels of the ground enough to become an inhospitable place for any parasite cysts in the soil). But that's tomorrow's plan.

Here she is folks. The newest addition to our family. We still haven't decided on her new name officially, but have caught ourselves calling her Monkey Boo. Early in the name brainstorming process I'd liked Monkey for a name but Yetch wasn't sold on it. Then Boo made the top of the list. Last night we learned that while she answers to Honey, her foster family also nicknamed her "Monkey Pants" as a term of endearment.

So while we haven't made a conscious effort to name this dog an obscure moniker, I have the feeling Monkey Boo is going to stick whether we want it to or not. We'll see.

A package of puppy supplies just arrived. Before you say "Oh Ghoul, enough with the puppy talk", take a look at what I got.

Did you know they sell Halloween themed dog toys? I didn't. And I realize that getting a puppy has given me excuses to buy more Halloween stuff.

It started inexpensively with this $3 double-sided Happy Howloween rope flyer, and a cackling skull and crossbones for $8 from www.petonly.ca.

Add this to the fact that hats might actually be a safety feature for my soft-skulled little girl...I mean...I would be a bad owner if I didn't get her some costumes that incorporate hats. Like this. Or this. Or maybe this. Or this.

I was beginning to lose hope that I could get one. Well, I could get one easily but not from reputable sources. Even a number of - what appeared to be - legitimate breeders were a bit...sketchy. I didn't want to give money to people who were exploiting dogs for profit.

I told the universe (through anyone who would listen) that I was ready to find my puppy.

Three days later I spotted a photo (right) of a googly-eyed Boston Terrier up for adoption through Loyal Rescue. I knew there would be many people applying for this darling little puppy saved from a Missouri Breeding Kennel because in the two months I'd been scouring online, I'd never seen a puppy Boston Terrier for adoption in my province.

The adoption process is very thorough (a real nail-biting, nerve racking experience for someone eager to be paired with the dog they've already started to get attached to). First, you fill out a long, detail-heavy application. If your application is approved, someone phones you for a 30-60 minute interview (I was sweating through my shirt by the end of my interview. Not only were there unexpected questions, but I'd already started to imagine her as my puppy and the pressure was on not to spoil my chance).

If you do well, they phone your references.

Assuming those pass the muster, they schedule a home visit with a different volunteer interviewer. We had ours last Saturday night. By then, interest in "Honey" the puppy was so high they'd stopped accepting applications for her.

My first car was a red Hyundai Pony hatchback (with the black silhouettes of a stallion reared up on its hind legs near the rear windows). In order to get it started, you had to use the choke (which always made me feel like I was driving a tractor). Patiently, I'd wait for the engine to warm up enough that I could back out of the driveway and put it into drive without stalling.